


Vocal Lessons

by BawdyBean



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Anal Sex, Bottom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Established Relationship, Improvised Sex Toys, Jaskier is sassy, M/M, Sweet/Hot, Top Jaskier | Dandelion, Unusual use of tuning forks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:42:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25682227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BawdyBean/pseuds/BawdyBean
Summary: Geralt wants to give Jaskier the same pleasure he feels-the pleasure of sinking into him. The problem is he's never quite enjoyed it. It's not unpleasant but never pleasurable either and Jaskier will not stand for this.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 30
Kudos: 540
Collections: Abby's Witcher Collection, Geraskier Ship Week 2020





	Vocal Lessons

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Jeraskier Ship Week on the Pillowfort Witcher community, the first prompt being Silence, and Jaskier is having none of Geralt's silence on this.
> 
> As usual beta'd by the stellar [bookscorpion](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookscorpion). Everyone give them a big round of applause and check out their orks. And witchers. And our Ork/Witcher polycule if you are interested.

“ _Jaskier_.” Jaskier has one finger buried to the knuckle in Geralt’s ass where he’s carefully taken his time getting it when Geralt grinds out his name between his teeth. “Hurry it up.”

Now, if those words had been uttered in desperation Jaskier might have found himself rushing. But Geralt’s cock is laying in the crook of his hip, limp and uninterested in affairs. A slight frown creeps onto Jaskier’s lips, a crinkle in his brow.

“I most certainly _will not_. I want you to enjoy this.” Slipping his finger out Jaskier searches for the vial he set on the bed. Perhaps Geralt needs more oil.

When he has it in hand, Jaskier glances up at Geralt’s face while he drips more onto his fingers. What he sees there is— disheartening. Geralt has closed his eyes and set his jaw firmly.

“It’s not like that, Jaskier.” A frustrated sigh escapes Geralt's nose. It has nowhere else to go with his jaw clamped shut like that.

Jaskier’s hands fall still. “Not like what? Exactly.” Cocking his head to the side Jaskier waits for an answer. For words. One of the most precious things Geralt can give him.

“Hmm.” Silence follows Geralt’s stunning revelation and Jaskier waits... and waits. “This is for you.” Geralt grinds out again. “I don’t need to enjoy it.”

Jaskier outright coughs, choking on his own shock. “ _Excuse me_?!” Wrapping his head around the situation quickly Jaskier runs his fingers up Geralt’s cock to slick it up, giving it a solid grip and a few tugs. “Geralt, if you don’t like taking a cock, then we don’t do it. It’s as simple as that. There are a hundred other ways I can think of to please myself with you.” After only a moment he adds, “and to please you at the same time.”

“You please me all the time, bard.” The words are sweet coming out of Geralt’s mouth. Accompanied by a relaxing of Geralt’s jaw, the corner of his lip twisting up, and an intense stare. Gold rimmed pupils focusing on nothing but Jaskier in that moment. “That’s why I offered this. I wanted to give you the same pleasure. How it feels for me isn’t what this is about.”

There is so much honesty in Geralt’ statement it hurts. Jaskier needs a moment to compose himself before he can even begin.

Geralt must mistake his silence for misunderstanding because the man actually starts talking again. “I don’t like _or_ dislike it. It doesn’t hurt, it just feels— strange.” 

Geralt seems to be struggling to explain his reasoning to Jaskier, who is frankly struggling to understand it. But one thing sticks out loudly from Geralt’s statement- _It doesn’t hurt_.

“It better fucking well not hurt! Someone hurts you, Geralt, and you punch them in the face.” The bemused look his outburst earns him puts Jaskier’s composure back where it needs to be. Geralt’s lip twitches up ever so slightly more on the one side, probably at Jaskier’s unthinking insinuation he doesn’t know how to handle getting hurt.

Really though, the man hasn’t got enough self respect to insist on enjoying his own fucking, Jaskier thinks, he needs all the help he can get.

Still stroking Geralt’s cock to the occasional appreciative hum, Jaskier leans over Geralt, one arm supporting his own weight as he nuzzles his face into the hair on Geralt’s chest. “Question, Geralt. Do you think _I_ don’t enjoy it when you fuck the dickens out of me?” Pushing up on his arm Jaskier watches Geralt carefully.

“Hmm.” Geralt’s response is blatantly delayed by the pleasure Jaskier finally manages to eek out of him, cock thickening in Jaskier’s hand even as his face furrows in confusion. “Uhh, no. You smell like you do.”

“That’s because I very much do. Gods, sometimes I can’t get enough of it. It feels amazing.” For a moment the memory of the euphoria he gets when he climaxes on Geralt’s cock falls over Jaskier like a physical thing. It takes him a moment to pull himself out of the feeling but when he does, he has a thought.

“Has it never been like that for you?” Over his initial appallment now, Jaskier is curious. He’s not the first to take Geralt this way, but perhaps he can be the first to make it good for Geralt.

Shaking his head slightly Geralt sighs again. “No. I told you that’s not what it’s about. For me. It’s a thing I can do to please, and I want you to feel how good it feels. To be inside. I don’t think- maybe it’s not the same for witchers?” At least the small curve on Geralt’s lips hasn’t disappeared.

“I don’t think so. You’re not lacking the proper parts to enjoy this. I think you’ve never been with someone who was concerned with trying.” That earns him a frown and Jaskier amends his statement. “Or who knew what they were looking for when it came to a man’s ass. And you do have a glorious ass. I could write ballads just about the perfectly rounded swell-”

“ _Jaskier_.” Geralt is gritting his teeth again and Jaskier knows to let the joke go. Well it was only half a joke really, he could write ballads of Geralt’s ass.

“Do you trust me?” Flashing his most winsome smile, the one that makes his eyes light up with enthusiasm, Jaskier asks Geralt with his whole body. Stilling his movements on Geralt’s cock for a moment, it pulses heavily in his hand, and Jaskier tips his own body back a little bit, pressing his hard cock against the inside of Geralt’s thigh. The head running messy over the sensitive skin there.

“Of course.” Geralt is watching Jaskier back with carefully concealed curiosity.

“Then let me show you. It will be that much better for me, seeing you coming undone on my cock.” Taking Geralt’s hand, Jaskier sits back on his knees and finds the oil again. Dribbles it over Geralt’s fingers.

Geralt snorts doubtfully. “If you say so bard.”

“I do say so. My cock isn’t going anywhere near your ass until you are begging me to fill you up, you hear me _witcher_?” Jaskier tries for a stern look and fails. Smiling into Geralt’s knee, Jaskier puts a gentle kiss there and pushes Geralt’s legs wider apart, down until they rest on the bed, knees akimbo. “Touch yourself for me, while I go find some things in my bag?”

Fingers tracing Geralt’s thigh, Jaskier leaves the bed and leaves Geralt to it. Giving him the privacy to get used to the idea without eyes on him as much as Jaskier craves to watch Geralt part himself open. There is no noise behind him, only utter silence. No grunts or soft sighs to indicate that Geralt has even started, but then Jaskier doesn’t have the ears of a witcher.

What he does have though, are a few tuning forks in his bag. Made of Ofiri steel, they resonate perfect notes for tuning his lute, as well as other things. Geralt is about to find out some of the more interesting uses Jaskier learned for them at Oxenfurt Academy. 

From the bottom of his bag Jaskier, retrieves a black velvet drawstring bag as well. It’s been living at the bottom for months now, Jaskier has had little need of it since he has unfettered access to Geralt’s glorious cock and generous libido. But now he removes the heavy meteorite silver plug, lets it rest in his hand to warm. 

It isn’t overly thick but it has a gentle curve to it, the rounded tip jutting upwards, and Jaskier knows from experience that every move will drag it across Geralt’s sweet spot.

With an innocent smirk pulling at his lips that hides his devious scheme, Jaskier turns to head back to the bed. And almost drops the heavy metal plug and tuning forks on his own feet. 

Geralt is hunched forward a little bit, abs tightening with the effort of burying two of his fingers in his ass, rim stretched tight white around them as he pushes into himself relentlessly. If Geralt’s face could talk— and sometimes, Jaskier muses, it’s the only part of him that does— it would call the motions _perfunctory_.

It’s not a word Geralt would ever really use though and Jaskier knows it. Looking at Geralt’s hip the cock Jaskier has worked so hard to stiffen is already flagging again. Biting his tongue, Jaskier moves to the bed quickly and drops his items there instead. One hand covering Geralt’s to temper the movements of his fingers, Jaskier settles between Geralt’s legs again.

Geralt looks up at Jaskier and it is clear as day that he does not understand. That this still does not feel good and he can’t imagine how it will. Of course it doesn’t, Jaskier thinks, Geralt’s opening himself up with all the finesse one reserves for a particularly stubborn bottle of wine, not a body!

“Like this,” Jaskier guides Geralt’s hand, drawing his fingers all the way out and Geralt starts to protest.

“You wanted-” 

“Shush. I want you to feel amazing. Touch yourself like you touch _me_.” Jaskier can tell the concept is incredibly foreign to Geralt. Touching himself with kindness and respect. For a very long time Geralt is deathly silent, his chest rising and falling under Jaskier, but Jaskier can’t even hear the sounds of Geralt’s breath.

That doesn’t dissuade Jaskier though, Geralt has never been one to elucidate his wants and needs. Geralt offered this to Jaskier freely and Jaskier intends to take it from him. Wring pleasure from Geralt’s bones until he is left feeling dry and brittle the way Jaskier sometimes is. Baked too long in the heat of their coupling.

So Jaskier carries on. Without much encouragement, or discouragement for that matter, from Geralt. Guiding Geralt’s slippery hand, Jaskier strokes it up Geralt’s cock, over his balls and down. Teasing Geralt’s hole with both their fingers together while it contracts underneath them, finally fluttering around Geralt’s own finger when Jaskier pushes one back in.

“Hmmungh.” The sound spreads a fierce smile across Jaskier’s face.

“Like that. Be gentle with yourself.” With a kiss to Geralt’s lips, Jaskier draws back and watches. Geralt obeys beautifully this time. One finger slowly sinking in and receding, slick with oil, his cock still half hard.

Eyes closed, Geralt’s face is turned up to the ceiling. While his lips remained closed, his brow lacks the furrow from earlier, and he looks almost relaxed this way. Jaskier picks up the dark gray metal plug and slicks it with oil as Geralt sinks a second finger into himself. The silence still reigns, but Jaskier can see Geralt’s chest rise and fall faster as it starts to feel like something other than _strange_.

There are no questions from Geralt when the still cool metal presses against his body, next to his fingers. Instead he simply withdraws them, proving his trust to Jaskier in a way that makes Jaskier’s chest ache.

Even if it had taken Geralt a while to be convinced he deserves it from himself, Jaskier is careful with him from the very start. Tracing the solid metal around the softness of Geralt’s rim before gently pressing the tip in and withdrawing it. He is in no rush at all.

The third time Jaskier pushes the plug into Geralt, he braces his thumb on the sensitive skin behind Geralt’s balls and Geralt _moans_.

The sound is delicious and Jaskier wants to feast on every single one that tumbles out of Geralt’s mouth. The moment Jaskier thinks that though it’s as though Geralt realizes he made a noise and he falls into silence again, only this time it's broken by soft pants, puffs of air that Jaskier can hear.

Jaskier holds the plug in place stretching Geralt’s rim around the thicker part of the plug, it’s still not even as wide as his own cock but Geralt’s cock jerks a bit while it sits there, his ass weakly spasming in attempt to close around it. To suck it inside himself.

“You’re gorgeous.” Jaskier can’t help but whisper as he finally tugs the plug free and Geralt’s ass contracts around nothing closing up once more.

The fourth time Jasker presses the plug into Geralt’s hole, it’s hungry for the warm metal. It draws it from Jaskier’s hand in a slow swallow that is fascinating to watch. Jaskier’s rapt attention is broken by the startled movement Geralt makes when the plug comes to rest inside him, pushing right up into his sweet spot.

“ _Jask-_ ,” Geralt starts and stops, leaving Jaskier incredibly pleased.

Leaving the plug be for the moment, Jaskier leans over on his knees, hands on either side of Geralt’s shoulders to kiss him. Jaskier lets the back of his hand trail up and down Geralt’s stomach and chest, once pressing low into his gut just above his cock and swallowing the small groan he receives.

When Geralt seems duly relaxed, subdued with the newness of the pleasure, Jaskier returns to his place between Geralt’s legs. “Are you ready?”

“Ready for what? You fucked me with metal and I admit it felt-” Geralt closed his eyes and searched for a word, “-very nice.”

The tuning fork is a clear sound resonating through the room. A thrum of sound and it vibrates Jaskier’s hand where he holds it. Until he touches the end of it to the metal plug muting it. Sending all the sound into Geralt’s body in tiny vibrations.

“ _Fuck_!Jaskier what is tha-” Geralt rocks his body back on the bed, lifting his hips in a bid to lessen the assault of pleasure inside his body.

Jaskier merely watches him. Holding the tuning fork firmly in place and taking Geralt’s cock in head. Stroking Geralt as his cock stiffens completely. Almost immediately Geralt is hard in his hand, throbbing and beating with life, firm under velvet soft skin.

Jaskier chases Geralt’s hips across the sheets, unwilling to let Geralt escape the bliss. Drinking in every second that he lets his mouth win out over him. The silence has fallen away to desperate groans and deep gasps. 

To whispers of, “ _Please Jaskier_ ,” falling from rough lips.

Hitting the other tuning fork he brought with him on the bedframe, Jaskier listens to its deep low note before pressing it to the metal base of the plug.

Geralt cries out. “Fuck. Jaskier I need you.” His fists are balled in the sheets and Jaskier loses all patience at the words.

“Alright, shh. Alright.” The plug slips out easily and Geralt’s ass is breathtaking. Loose and welcoming. Jaskier slicks himself with oil in only a moment and sinks the head of himself in. The breath that comes out of Geralt sounds choked. His chest struggling to stay in rhythm as it rises and falls.

Petting Geralt’s chest, Jaskier soothes him with sweet nothings while urging his hips forward. Geralt is no longer silent. He moans his pleasure loudly. Hands gripping Jaskier’s wrists where they brace against the bed. 

It’s torture not to just shove himself inside and plough Geralt, but Jaskier takes his time. Short thrusts that open Geralt wider slowly until Jasker’s balls press into Geralt’s ass. He stays still there for a while, kissing Geralt’s mouth. When he raises himself back up to pump his hips Geralt’s eyes are fixed on him, blown so wide Jaskier wonders if the room looks white to Geralt.

Jaskier can’t stop his mouth even now. “Does it feel strange still?”

And oh fuck Geralt _laughs_ a deep rumble that travels through all his muscles to grip Jaskiers cock in the sweetest way he has to hold his breath not to spill. “Shut up and fuck me, bard.”

Never one to intentionally disobey Geralt, Jaskier sets his hips in motion. Let’s his body find a rhythm that suits the both of them. Watches Geralt’s eyes fall half lidded and his belly tense.

“You feel- perfect inside me.” Geralt closes his eyes all the way. Grits his teeth and sucks in a rough breath when Jaskier cock pounds into the same spot the plug did over and over. “Like you belong there.”

The words drive Jaskier’s hips harder, and his hand tugs at Geralt’s cock until it spasms. Cum shooting up Geralt’s belly and his body clenching tight on Jaskier’s cock. In an open mouth wordless moment, Jaskier follows Geralt over the edge.

The sounds of the washerwoman as she makes her rounds and the innstaff banging on doors rouses Jaskier from his slumber. He rolls over certain he will see Geralt’s piercing gold eyes, watching him as he drowsed, already long awake from the noises Jaskier has only just heard.

And yet, Geralt is asleep. Covers strewn about his hips, one arm is curled under his chest and the other is thrust under the pillow. His face never quite looks peaceful but this is close. Stubble dots his chin and his lips are neutral. Not a frown, not a smile. 

Jaskier feels blessed to see this. Maybe to have caused this.

Following the line of Geralt’s shoulder, the swell of his muscle where it dips and fills out again into his powerful arm, Jaskier lets one finger explore. Geralt doesn’t blink awake blearly, his eyes simply open to watch Jaskier and it would be startling if Jaskier weren’t used to it.

For a long time Geralt says nothing, moves nothing. Until he rolls on his side inviting Jaskier in close, and opportunity Jaskier is not going to turn down. It’s warm and comforting the way Geralt wraps Jaskier in the iron grip of his arms. 

Fresh forged steel. Jaskier stores that comparison away for later when he can compose. Which is good because Geralt is stealing his thoughts currently with a languid but no less passionate kiss.

“Last night.” Jaskier watches Geralt through half closed eyelids unsure if there will be more words or if the kiss was meant as the explanation Geralt so struggles with. “Was _different_.” Jaskier let’s Geralt confess at his own pace. “Good different.”

Jaskier wants badly to strum his own lute and say that he knew he could make it this way for Geralt, but Geralt has given him words. Possibly even a hint of emotion tied to them. Which is still the most precious gift Geralt can give him and Jaskier won’t be called a cad.

So Jaskier’s only response is a genuine smile, not the overblown one he gives nobles, and a soft kiss to Geralt’s lips. “I’m glad.”

**Author's Note:**

> I typically write gameverse and oh man was this different, FUN, but different. I had to remind myself to shut Geralt up so much!


End file.
